The Gambler
by Merula
Summary: AU, OOC, yaoi. 1x2. Based on the song The Gambler. Duo meets someone who gives him good advice. Cameo character: Goyjo.


Disclaimer: Neither GW or Saiyuki are mine. I wish!

Based on the old country song- The Gambler.

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I grabbed my ticket back from the guard and headed towards the train, trying to remember where the hell it was headed to- not that it mattered. As long as it got me the hell out of here, I was all for it.

The night was warm, and I was sweating. It was late, the train platform lit by those awful yellow lights, making everyone look like refugees from a zombie movie. It made the whole thing seem unreal. I wasn't really leaving- was I?

I boarded the train, pushing my duffle up ahead of me so that I could walk down the narrow hallway. Every compartment I walked by seemed to be full. People traveling with their families- couples traveling together.

No one I wanted to share a space with. Nothing to remind me about what I lost- what I was leaving behind me.

The train was beginning to move when I finally found a compartment with only one other occupant in it. I slid open the door. "Mind if I join you? The train's pretty full."

The guy gestured at the opposite seat and went back to looking out the window. I collapsed down on the seat across from him and took a deep breath.

I looked out the window too, scanning the fast- vanishing platform. No familiar faces there.

Not that I expected one. Why would he come after me?

I swallowed the lump that rose up in my throat.

The guy across from me kept looking out the window even as the train moved completely away from the station. I studied him for a moment.

Older- probably late fifties, red hair turning to silver -pulled into a ponytail that brushed his shoulder blades, good bone structure- he was handsome in a distinguished looking way. He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket that looked like it had seen much better days over the top.

He pulled out a package of cigarettes and gestured towards me. "Do you mind?" He asked, his voice reminding me of whiskey and smoke, low and husky, but smooth.

"No, go ahead." He shook out his package and frowned as one cigarette tumbled out.

"Don't suppose you have a light?"

I had to think about that. Had I brought the stupid lighter with me? I rummaged in the duffle next to me. Sure enough, I had tossed it in. I leaned across and lit his cigarette for him. He caught my wrist and examined the lighter for a minute.

"That's a nice lighter." I ran my fingers over the engraved initials on the front, his and mine, entwined together, and had to bite my lip for a moment.

"It was a present, from a friend… well… a former…" I stumbled over the explanation. Was Heero now just a memory? Was what we had gone for good?

He gave me a knowing smile and leaned back against the seat cushions, taking a long drag on the cigarette. I went back to staring out the window, flipping the lighter around in my fingers. Heero had given it to me a long time ago- he hated it when I smoked. I had argued that I only did it rarely- it took me months to go through a pack. Sometimes I just needed one. He had told me that I killing myself.

But he had still given me the lighter.

What was I going to do? It had been a long time since I had been completely on my own. But I couldn't go back. Not after what happened… why hadn't I watched my mouth? I knew I was pushing him- I knew all of the buttons to hit- knew how to hit them… and I had. I had dragged him to the edge and tossed him over.

I wondered where the train was headed. Was it someplace I'd be able to find a job? Would it be worth it to hunt up one of my old identities in case he came after me?

What if he never came after me? What if he did? How was I going to sleep without him?

How was I going to live without him?

My fingers kept tracing those initials on the lighter. His and mine...

I stuck the lighter back in my duffle, my hand brushing the brown paper bag that I had picked up on my way here when I had ducked into the liquor store- trying to throw off anyone following me, I had told myself at the time.

That was a lie. I had picked up the Jack Daniels knowing that at the very least I could achieve some kind of oblivion. I had uncapped it in that alleyway behind the store and taken a deep swallow right then. It had burned going down, but it had given me a brief sense of warmth.

I pulled it out of the duffle; still in it's brown wrapping, unscrewed the top and took a swig out of it.

"You didn't strike me as that type of guy," my companion said, his eyebrows lifting as he crushed out the remainder of his cigarette.

"What type?"

"The brown paper bag type of drinker. Actually you don't look much like a drinker at all."

"It's been a really bad day. Week. Month…" I took another swig. "What do you mean I don't look like a drinker?"

The man smiled knowingly. "I've spent my life relying on my ability to read faces… and you my friend, look like someone that got dumped. Or you think you got dumped. You're looking at a hand of no aces."

I blinked at him and he produced a set of cards and shuffled them between his long fingers. Heero had been able to shuffle cards like that, back in the bad old days when we played cards to keep ourselves from thinking about other things.

"These cards were my livelihood for a long time. I didn't eat if I didn't win, you know what I mean?" He smiled and the cards vanished again. "I needed to be able to know what my opponents' cards were, just by the way they held their eyes."

"So you were good at it?"

"I obviously never starved to death." He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back against the battered seat cushions. "Yep, there's nothing good in your hand and you're setting yourself up for a losing streak."

"I guess that's pretty true."

"Want some advice?" He smiled as if he expected me to tell him to fuck off.

"I could use some." He looked faintly surprised.

"All right then, pass the bottle over. Good advice ain't free you know…"

I handed him the bottle and dug into my duffle. I pulled out my half-full pack of cigarettes and found my lighter. I lit one up and then passed him the pack.

He grinned and took one, I lit it for him, and then he took another hit on the bottle before passing it back to me.

His smile faded and he looked out into the darkness, the smoke from the cigarette curling up and into the air over his head.

"Let me guess- it was just a usual fight that got out of hand. You didn't mean to say what you said- and then you couldn't take it back."

I remembered the shock on Heero's face when I had accused him of not loving me.

"Yeah..."

"You've been fighting more than talking- making up with sex and not with words…"

I wouldn't call it fighting. Heero would actually have to participate for it to be that… but the bed part was right. It was easier to drag Heero off to bed- at least there I felt like he might feel something for me…

"Yeah…"

"Your lover's not much of a talker." I blinked at him. How did he guess?

"No."

"Doesn't ever tell you how he feels." My head snapped up at his choice of pronoun and he shrugged.

"Signs are there to see if you're looking. Don't freak kid; I'm the last person to judge you on that. I never really cared much what sex my partners' were- as long as they were willing to have it- you know? Never stayed with one for long- always looking for the next…"

I nodded. He took a long drag on his cigarette. "That was my problem kid- I had the best hand in the house, and I folded it- thinking my luck would be better later- you know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"Life is like that, you know? You keep getting dealt hands- and they are all good- you just have to know which cards to keep and which ones to throw away… I made that mistake once- gave myself a bad hand- and it doesn't seem like I've gotten a good hand since."

I handed him the bottle again.

"I know it's my own fault- I could have- I just lost my taste for the game." He sipped from the bottle. "I'd hate to see that happen to anyone else. You sure you want to end the game? You can't make a few adjustments- make a few bluffs- keep the game going?"

I tried to find the words to explain it, to fit it into the terms we were using. "I don't know if I can. I don't know if he's even willing to continue playing. The guy could have any hand he wants- you know? Lots of people seem to be ready to take my seat at the table…"

"No one can take it from you unless you vacate it." He smiled and ground out his cigarette. "If you think about it, I'll bet your lover's been giving you lots of signs that you haven't seen that prove the truth of that statement. Just think about it." He handed me the empty bottle, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I glanced out the window. It was getting more early than late now; the sun was rising up over the horizon.

If I were at home, the alarm would be going off soon. Heero would hit the snooze button, and get up. He'd go turn on the coffee pot, start the shower and then come back and wake me up….

There were lots of little things like that Heero did for me. Little things- but they were all for me- and if I admitted it- signs that he cared.

I crushed out the remainder of the cigarette. Maybe I was throwing out the good cards with the bad. Maybe the hand was salvageable. Maybe we could keep playing.

I stared out the window for a long time, watching the sun come up over the horizon, reminding myself of all the things Heero did that proved that he cared. All the things I had ignored, all of the things that I took for granted.

Had I blown it this time? Would he want me back? What should I do?

The train started to slow down. The man opposite me stirred and peered out the window. He grinned at something he saw out there and then looked at me.

"Thanks for sharing the whiskey and the cigs. I hope you take my advice. I have one last piece for you." He got to his feet and scooped up his bag. "You can't replay an old game- but you can always start a new hand- with the same players." His grin widened slightly and he left the compartment.

I looked out the window. There was a slender guy, about the same age as the one who shared my compartment; glasses perched on his nose, wrapped in a black leather coat. He caught my eye and I watched him for a minute as he watched the train. He looked- expectant. Nervous even- and I wondered who he was meeting.

A moment later and he was joined by my friend- I watched them hug, watched the case exchange hands, watched them walk off together down the platform.

It made me smile. Maybe it wasn't too late to start a new hand… I'd have to get off the train- buy a ticket back…

"Duo?"

I turned. Heero was standing in the doorway of the compartment, looking mussed and tired- black circles stood out under his eyes like bruises.

I blinked at him for a minute. How did he…?

"Heero? What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you. I tracked you to the train station and then took the car and headed here to meet your train."

Unsaid was the time it must've taken him to track me, the questions he must've had to ask the people at the station, the long drive to beat the train here…

He was watching me warily, as if he expected me to start yelling again- and yet I could see the determination behind that- he wasn't going to get off the train without me.

I got to my feet and grabbed my duffle.

"Let's go home." I nudged him into the hallway towards the exit.

"Don't you want to- talk first?"

"We can talk later. We'll go home. You can sleep in the car. I'll sleep when we get there and tonight…" I smiled as I followed him off the train, "tonight we'll pull out some cards and whiskey and talk over a few hands- like we used to, okay?"

"Okay." He smiled- I saw the relief and happiness in it, and I felt like I had just been dealt a winning hand.


End file.
